


Avenging Angel

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-10
Updated: 2008-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-01 12:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: After Severus is viciously attacked, Harry exacts his own brand of revenge against those responsible.  WARNING: This is a dark fic that deals with rape, violence, torture and revenge.  Please do not read if this bothers you.





	1. My Worst Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

Beta’d by the stunning BabyGurl

 

Avenging Angel 

Chapter 1 My Worst Fears

Standing in the comforting shadows of the great castle, the lone figure waited impatiently, worriedly, for his compatriot to return to the relative safety of Hogwarts. The war against He-Who-Is-A-Pain-In-The-Arse was still furiously raging and the venerable castle had become the symbol of resistance to the Darkness that threatened to overtake the Wizarding World. Sighing into the darkness, the watcher prayed to the gods that his comrade would come back from his latest mission unscathed. Long hours crept by as the sky to the east gently brightened. Pulling his cloak more closely about his trim figure, the sentinel frowned into the awakening dawn. 

Finally feeling the subtle shift of magic in the air, the young man stood up straight and cautiously drew his wand before striding swiftly to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Following the faint tinge of magic, he quickly found the source. There, lying at the roots of an ancient oak lay the beaten and bloody form of Severus Snape, spy for the Light.

Gasping at the ghastly sight of his former professor, Harry Potter raised his wand and sent his patronus up into the air to alert the others that Severus had returned. Grimacing, the young man thought that while his comrade had indeed returned, he had hardly returned unharmed. In the quickly growing light of the new day, angry green eyes took in the many injuries evident through the torn and tattered robes that hung off the body of the unconscious Potions master. 

Efficiently casting an immobilizing charm to prevent further injury and then a feather-light charm, Harry carefully guided the still form of the larger man through the dense undercover near the edge of the forest. Harry heard the others before he saw them, but soon the large form of Hagrid came into view. Knowing that Dumbledore would likely be not far behind, Harry navigated his charge through the last few feet of the forest. 

Harry didn’t need to hear the dismayed gasps from the others to know that they too were shocked at the state in which Severus had been returned to them. Even as Albus took over the delicate task of guiding the Potions master safely across the grounds and up to the infirmary a thin hand gently grasped Harry’s forearm. 

Looking over to his former Head of House, Harry noticed the firm set of the older woman’s lips. Years of being first her student and then her comrade-in-war had given Harry an insight to the stern witch’s demeanor. Now he could see that Minerva was having a great deal of difficulty hiding her emotions. Very few knew she and the irascible Potions master were in fact great friends underneath their outward house rivalries and petty squabbling. 

“He’s too stubborn to do anything but get better,” Harry quietly told his friend as he placed his hand over the shaking woman’s hand. Even as he said the words, Harry vowed to do whatever it took to make it so.

Minerva grimly smiled at her former student, “I know, Harry, I know. Sometimes… I just wonder how much more he must endure in this fight against You-Know-Who.” Turning her head to watch the older wizard guide her friend toward the castle, she whispered, “He has given more of himself than anyone will ever know.”

Silently acknowledging the truth of those words, the pair set off after the others. After a terse nod, Hagrid turned to continue his patrol of the Forest borders. Following the aged headmaster and their fallen comrade up the hill, Harry walked next to his former Head of House. He found his thoughts drifting to rather inane subjects. Such as, he still wondered after all these years how such a strong witch could be so afraid to call Riddle by his self-proclaimed title. Of course, in the privacy of his own mind, Harry called the monster many worse names than Voldemort. It really was too bad that name-calling couldn’t hurt the bastard.

 

Madame Pomfrey was already awaiting the arrival of her latest patient and quickly got to work evaluating the still form of the injured man. Silently, Harry, Albus and Minerva stood out of the bustling matron’s way. They would be ready at a moment’s notice to help the medi-witch if she asked, but until then they would simply watch and wait.

Finishing her diagnostic scans, Poppy straightened up and began listing potions and supplies she would need to begin her healing regimen. Harry and Minerva scurried to gather the various items while Albus thoughtfully looked down on the young wizard he thought of as a son.

Not a word was spoken as the medi-witch set about administering potions and cleaning and wrapping wounds. As much as the others wanted to know the true extent of the injuries Severus Snape had incurred, they knew that Poppy would only stop to talk to them once her patient was out of danger. Years of acquaintance had taught those present the folly of interfering with the medi-witch while she was tending to a patient.

 

Poppy sighed and tiredly rubbed her back, silently signaling to her conscripted aides that she had done all she could for now. “I have put him into a healing sleep for now,” she finally informed her companions.

Albus finally spoke, “Poppy, what were his injuries?”

Clear blue eyes regarded her employer as Poppy gathered her thoughts. Now that the initial crisis was over, the enormity of her friend’s injuries began to sink in. Succumbing to the urge, the medi-witch sat down in the nearest chair and with a trembling voice indicated that the others should also sit.

“He was beaten, and suffered contusions and several broken bones. From the extent of the injuries, I would say that he was not only struck with fists and feet, but also with a hard blunt object. There are also numerous whip marks on both his chest and his back and buttocks. His right lung was punctured by a broken rib, and two of his left ribs were bruised. His left wrist was broken, while his wand hand was broken in several places, as though someone had trampled it. His right femur was fractured in two places and he has suffered a concussion. Severus was also physically restrained and thus suffered abrasions on his wrists and ankles.” Pausing in order to pull her wayward emotions back into check, Poppy took a deep breath before continuing. Besides Harry, Severus had been one of her more frequent patients over the years and she had come to care deeply for the acerbic Potions master. Gathering her nerve, she continued, “Albus, I am afraid that Severus was also raped. And my scans showed that it was by more than one person. I am sorry.”

In the aftermath of those awful words, the assemblage was silent, with only the injured man’s raspy breaths sounding in the hospital ward. Minerva began sobbing openly while Albus visibly sagged down into himself. Harry closed his eyes. He had hoped against hope that his instincts had been wrong. But now the medi-witch had just confirmed his worst fears. Severus Snape had been raped.


	2. Reliving Nightmares

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: WARNING - This chapter deals with rape and violence. Please tread carefully.

 

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is unimaginably busy right now.

 

Chapter 2 Reliving Nightmares

Harry groaned as he rolled over in his vain attempt to gain a bit of rest in the midst of a long night. The past day had been filled with waiting and worrying over the still sleeping injured Potions master. All in all, it had been a rather subdued atmosphere in the castle that weary day. But now, when he finally had the opportunity to sleep, Harry found that his mind simply would not let go of the thoughts of his Severus being beaten and raped. Nor could he turn away from the idea that those responsible needed to pay for their crime. 

Finally giving up the on the pretext of sleep, Harry rose and began dressing silently in the gloom of his dungeon rooms. The young man scarcely gave thought anymore to the irony of his presence in the depths of the castle. Where once he had dreaded to tread, now Harry found solace and peace in the cold silence of the dungeons. 

Determined to put his rough plan into action, Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak before leaving the safety of his rooms. Absently placing strong locking and warding spells on his chambers, the war-hardened man stealthily moved through the castle, the hospital ward his final destination.

Satisfied that the medi-nurse was nowhere to be seen, Harry slipped into the ward and crept to the private room that now held Severus Snape. A wave of his hand locked and secured the room as Harry stared down at the beaten form of his former professor. Harry silently asked for forgiveness while he pulled over a chair and sat down next to the sleeping man.

Gently brushing a long strand of hair out of the older wizard’s face, Harry concentrated and cast ‘Legilemens’ on the injured man. Carefully, he brushed over miscellaneous thoughts and memories, all the while focusing on finding the information he needed. Ah, there it was, pulsing angrily against the other memories. Steeling himself to watch the replay of last evening’s events, Harry firmly tamped down his emotions. He could not afford to allow his feelings to affect the process. 

Harry watched the memory as Severus sat in his rooms, reading an advanced Potions Manual. The young wizard watched as a summons appeared via eagle owl. Frowning, Severus stood, quickly sent a message to the headmaster, and tossed floo powder in his fireplace, calling out “Malfoy Manor.” The tall man stepped gracefully out of the fireplace before he was quickly subdued by a stunning spell. The Potions master was forced down to his knees by two burly figures. Harry observed as the older man mentally cursed himself for slipping so badly. The spy had always known that someday he would likely be caught, but he had hoped that day was not yet come.

Harry involuntarily stiffened as he watched the memory Lucius Malfoy step in front of the bound man. Smirking, the blond casually drawled, “Severus, my dear friend, did you really think that your true allegiances could remain a secret from our Lord?” Kneeling down, the pure-blooded wizard lazily stroked a gloved finger along the jaw line of his subdued ‘guest’. “Now, Severus,” he chastised, “You haven’t bowed to our Lord. And our Master has come so far just to see you.” Pulling hard on the dark man’s hair, Lucius forced Severus to look over to where the Dark Lord was seated regally as on a throne. “Since your betrayal is such a personal blow to our Lord, our Master has graciously agreed to allow his faithful followers a chance to properly punish your impudence in his presence.” Pausing a moment, Lucius bent closer and suggestively purred, “I must say, Severus, I have always wondered how it would feel to be buried deep within your arse.” Looking around, Lucius noted the interested leers of his companions. “And I would say that I am not the only one. So why don’t we start the party now?”

Standing, the blond nodded to two of the heavily muscled men next to him. Harry recognized the thick-necked men as Crabbe and Goyle Seniors, even as he watched the memory move on. The two men grabbed the incapacitated wizard and threw him over the edge of a sturdy table. Malfoy lazily flicked his wand and iron manacles appeared on the bound man’s wrists and ankles. Another flick of his wand tore the trademark black robes off the Potions master’s body. Nodding to another man, Malfoy stepped back as a whip viciously came down on the bound man’s back. Again and again, the sounds of the whip and heavy breathing filled the air.

Even in the midst of his horror at watching the scene replay, Harry found himself admiring the restraint of his colleague. Severus Snape silently bore the fierce lashes, never allowing himself more than a grunt of discomfort to emerge from between his lips. Harry watched as even during this abuse, the spy for the Light plotted and planned an escape from his captors.

Apparently satisfied that they had done enough physical damage for the time being, someone came over and used a knife to cut the pants off the hurt man. By unspoken command, Lucius Malfoy moved into position, undid his robes, and roughly grabbed the Potions master’s hips, before forcing himself deep into the man. Severus strained and bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain. It hurt more than he could have imagined to be so horribly violated. He knew that rape was an oft-used weapon of the Dark Lord’s followers, but he had never been forced to participate in such activities before. And now to be on the receiving end; yes, he understood quite well the implications of such a punishment.

Again and again, Severus was violently taken, semen mixing with the blood streaming down his legs. After the third or fourth man - he was losing track - he hazily looked up to see a smirking Lucius Malfoy standing imperiously before him. The blond held the bound man’s gaze as Lucius began stroking his own erection. Daring Severus to look away, Lucius quickly brought himself to climax, making sure to spray his ejaculation all over the Potions master’s face. 

Anger burned in Harry’s mind as he watched the memory, as the monster who called himself Voldemort, sat and eagerly watched the display. He had not said a word, but every gesture spoke of his implicit approval of the proceedings. To Harry’s everlasting disgust, Bellatrix Lestrange sat at her Master’s feet, happily running a hand up the creature’s thighs and fondling the bulge in his pants.

Once all the men had had a chance at taking the proud potions master against his will; the Death Eaters resorted to physical violence. Again and again, Severus was punched, kicked and hit with various items. Finally, the men seemed to remember they were wizards and the curses and hexes began to fly.

Harry’s attention was drawn to the spark of an idea as it came to the Potions master. Harry watched the memory as Severus pretended to succumb to his many injuries. An over-confident and foolish Death Eater stepped too close to the prone man, and before he could comprehend the situation, Severus had taken the man’s wand and had thrown a curse at the Bella bitch, who toppled over into the lap of the Dark Lord. Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, Severus activated an emergency portkey that he had hastily retrieved from his ruined clothes. As the memory Severus disappeared, Harry carefully pulled out of the memory, but not before taking note of all who were present.

Taking a deep breath, Harry sat back in his chair next to the still form of the Potions master. Closing his eyes, he reviewed the names of those responsible. Voldemort, of course, but that would come later. Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle Seniors, Waldon Macnair, Augustus Rookwood, Antonin Dolohov, and the Lestrange brothers, Rasbatan and Rudolphus. And of course, Bellatrix Lestrange. Oh yes, they would pay for what they did to Severus, Harry silently vowed.


	3. Discussions

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: WARNING - This chapter deals with rape and violence. Please tread carefully.

A/N2: Hooray! I finally finished my powerpoint presentation on orchids for my gardening group. Who knew something so easy would be so time-consuming? Now I just have to stand up in front of the group and talk for an hour about orchids.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is unimaginably busy right now.

 

Chapter 3 Discussions

Harry awoke in the bright light of the early morning. Working a kink out of his neck, the young man made a mental note to never again spend the night in an uncomfortable wooden chair. Why on earth had he forgotten he was a wizard and could have easily transformed the ruddy thing into something more comfortable?

Finally acknowledging the feeling that had awoken him to begin with, Harry turned to the figure lying in the bed next to him. Unsurprisingly, dark eyes silently regarded the young man. Harry unflinchingly met that steady gaze, willing the man to speak first. He had not long to wait, as a soft, low voice said, “You looked.” 

It was not a question, that much Harry understood. “Yes, sir. I had to know. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but know that I will never divulge to anyone what I witnessed.” Here, the younger wizard held up his wand and placed it across his heart as a vow. Warmth briefly infused both men’s chests as the simple vow was given and accepted.

Harry frowned slightly as he reflected that his former professor had acquiesced altogether too easily. Sighing, he supposed it was a sign of just how deeply the torture and rapes had affected the former spy. Standing, Harry went over to the medi-witch’s office so he could let her know her patient was awake.

As the ever efficient Poppy attended to her charge, Harry stood off to the side and quietly watched. He would help if and only if the formidable medi-witch asked. Anyone who knew Madame Pomfrey knew better than to help unless directed to.

Only when the woman had nodded to herself and called for a house elf to fetch two platters of food, did Harry again step forward. Locking eyes with the Potions master, he silently challenged him to deny his presence. A long-suffering sigh and slight stoop to the thin shoulders was the only sign of assent given.

Satisfied for the moment, Harry took his portion of breakfast and ate without comment. A pointed glare was enough to convince the snarky man to grudgingly take a bite of his own porridge.

Harry slowly chewed his toast as he tried to figure out how best to broach the subject he knew needed to be discussed. As he finished off his chilled pumpkin juice, he finally decided that it could wait until the older man had left the infirmary. Then they would talk…

 

When the perpetually twinkling headmaster entered the ward to see his favorite ex-spy, Harry took the opportunity to leave. He had a bit of thinking to do before he was ready to talk to the man he cared for so much. Of course, it went without saying that that particular piece of information would remain secret. There was no sense in exposing himself to any more ridicule than was absolutely necessary.

 

The next weekend, Harry walked the short distance to his former professor’s private living quarters. Nervously smoothing down his robes, he carefully tucked the peace offering against his side. The young man sincerely hoped that the expensive bottle of single malt Scotch whisky would be up to the discerning Potions master’s taste. After knocking firmly on the heavy oak door, all he could do now was wait.

It was early evening and Severus had only recently escaped the clutches of the medi-witch and had been allowed to retreat to his dungeons rooms. Harry knew that the man only wanted the opportunity to slip inside himself and put the whole sordid experience behind him. And by that, he meant forgetting it had ever happened. But that was exactly what Harry would not allow the man to do. He knew from bitter experience that ignoring the memories would not make them go away. So when the Potions master opened the door to find his former student standing there, Harry was not surprised to hear the now former spy swear expressively.

Harry raised an amused eyebrow rose to signal his amusement. Watching the older man’s irritated expression, Harry smirked. Nonetheless, he had come help, not aggravate, so he reined in his amusement at the obvious discomfort he was causing his reluctant host.

“Professor, if I might come in,” Harry politely asked.

A muttered oath greeted the young man as he purposely strode past Severus Snape. Understanding that being allowed into this private domain was a unique honor, even when grudgingly given, Harry turned and smiled his thanks to his former professor. Seeing that the older man had noticed the bottle, Harry carefully held out the peace offering. Hiding an amused grin at the ill-disguised eagerness that greeted his presentation, Harry graciously handed over his gift. 

Sitting in one of the worn leather chairs by the roaring fire, Harry watched as the older man moved carefully around the room as he decanted the liquor and poured two glasses. The ex-Gryffindor gratefully took one glass as he thanked the man for sharing his gift. 

Gingerly sitting down, Severus seemed to hold back a grimace before taking an appreciative sip of his own drink. Wary obsidian eyes held the younger man’s as he gruffly asked, “So, to what misfortune do I owe the fates for your untimely visit, Potter?”

Harry raised his glass to hide his amusement at the rather unwelcoming greeting. Secretly glad that the man could at least sound normal, Harry mentally prepared himself for the coming battle.

“Sir, I think you can at least guess why I am here,” he began quietly. “I am concerned about your well-being after last weekend’s attack.” Holding up a hand to forestall the sharp retort he could see already forming on his companion’s lips, Harry pressed on, “I also know that I am probably one of the last people you would choose to speak to, but I already know what happened to you.”

Taking a quick sip of the fiery liquid, Harry watched as his host considered this. His arguments already formed in his mind, all he could do now was to try to convince the reticent man to agree.

“And just how do you believe talking about something that has already occurred would benefit me, Mr. Potter?”

Leaning forward in his seat, Harry willed the older man to read the truth in his eyes. “Because I understand what happened to you, Professor. I know what you are feeling now, sir.”

Angrily standing, Severus towered over his unwelcome guest. “How dare you presume to understand anything about me, Potter! How would ‘The Chosen One’ know anything about such things?” was spat out, the man visibly working to control his rage.

Solemn green eyes regarded his agitated companion. Harry softly answered, “I know, Professor, because I too have been raped.”


	4. Chapter 4	Revelations

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: WARNING - This chapter deals with rape and violence. Please tread carefully.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is unimaginably busy right now.

 

Chapter 4 Revelations

Harry sat back and watched the emotions play across the face of the normally stoic man opposite him. As the shock permeated his mind, Severus sank back down into his own chair. Haunted onyx eyes gazed uncertainly toward his former student. “You, Potter?” the Potions master was finally able to whisper.

Taking a careful sip of his whisky, Harry looked up and solemnly nodded. Seeing that the older man was still struggling to wrap himself back up in his cloak of indifference and sarcasm, Harry patiently waited. Years of Snape watching had taught Harry many things about his former professor and antagonist.

When the younger man finally sensed that the older wizard was ready to hear more, Harry continued, “Whether you like it or not, it happened. And it changed forever who and what you are. You will never be the same person you were before. This incident has changed how you will look at life, at people, at yourself. Now the question is, what do you want this new person to be?” 

Harry watched as his companion absorbed what he had said thus far. Holding his now empty glass out in silent supplication, the young man was rewarded when his drink was refilled. He took another sip before pressing forward. “You are a strong person, Pro - Severus. But even the strongest individual cannot go through an experience like this alone.” Sighing, Harry ran his hand through his hair, revealing his trademark scar. “I also know that I am probably the last person you would choose to talk to, but I know some of what you are going through and I can help you, if you will let me.”

Too stunned to offer much of an argument, Severus drank from his own glass while silently regarding his young visitor. Harry carefully kept his expression neutral as he watched the man watch him. He had had many years to perfect his mask around the older man. Fortunately, his Occlumency shields were more than adequate to keep even the most skilled Legilemens out of his mind. And above all else, Harry had no intentions of allowing his former professor to learn of his true feelings and his true reasons for wanting to help.

At length Severus spoke. “How is it that I never heard about what happened to you? After all, the press hangs upon your every breath. How is it that they never caught wind of this?”

Smiling ruefully, Harry responded. “They never knew because it happened in the muggle world. In the ‘safety’ of my own house, no less.” 

Gazing thoughtfully at his former student, Severus considered the venom he could clearly hear in the young man’s voice. “Albus knew,” he conjectured.

Shaking his head, Harry sighed. “I think he had always guessed that things weren’t exactly great at Privet Drive, but no, I don’t think he knew just how bad things had gotten.” Clear green eyes met cautious obsidian ones. “I spent a lot of time and energy blaming Albus. I wanted, needed, to believe it could have been prevented, that someone should have known it would happen. You see; it was easier to believe that it was Albus’ fault for allowing my relatives to hurt me. And since I had asked every year if I could go somewhere, anywhere else, I was able to convince myself for a while that he really did know.”

Curious in spite of himself, Severus couldn’t help but ask, “What changed? It doesn’t sound as if you blame him any more.”

“No, I don’t,” Harry firmly stated. “Well, this is partly why I felt I needed to talk to you. Albus and Poppy finally convinced me to talk to a mind healer. I fought against that idea for a long time. After all, wouldn’t that be admitting that I was crazy?” Snorting to himself, Harry continued, “Now, I just wish I had gone sooner to see someone. It has helped me so much to deal with everything. It turned out that Poppy’s roommate from Wizarding University became a mind healer and they have kept in close touch all these years. Poppy was sure that Dr. Anne Cameron could help me overcome the trauma I had experienced. And she was right.”

Severus carefully weighed everything he had heard so far before commenting, “You have me at something of a disadvantage here, Mr. Potter. Thanks to your Gryffindor nosiness, you know what happened to me, but you have as yet to enlighten me of your experience.” 

Sighing, Harry nodded. “You’re right, sir. After the other night I do owe you an explanation. First of all, you need to understand that my childhood was not pleasant. I know that you believe that I was a spoiled, arrogant child when I first came to Hogwarts. And I know that you also thought that I was full of myself, much like my father had been. But the truth was that I slept in a cupboard until the first Hogwarts letter was delivered. I also had no idea I was a wizard or that I was famous. I grew up being taught that I was a freak and unworthy of anything but disgust. Once I found out about magic and attended Hogwarts, things got better for a while.”

Here the young man paused and asked for a refill of his drink. Severus poured them each another glass before sitting back to listen to the rest of the narrative.

Taking a calming breath, Harry continued, “Then after my relatives found out that Sirius had died, they no longer held back in their hatred or treatment of me. My cousin Dudley had always used me as his favorite punching bag, but now my aunt and uncle actively encouraged him. Then one night I had a nightmare and I guess I awoke them with my screams. Uncle Vernon called Dudley in to my room after sending my aunt back to bed.”

Severus watched as the expressive green eyes became lost in the memory. Intrigued, he could only listen as the painful tale unfolded. Harry shook his head and spoke once more, “Vernon shut the door and told Dudley that they needed to teach me my place. He then asked if Dudley wanted to have a bit of fun with me. Apparently, my cousin wanted to ‘cause they then approached my bed and Vernon held me while Dudley hit me. I guess the idea of hurting me was turning them on and my uncle began rubbing his hand on his crotch. I remember him telling Dudley that he should take care of his need too and the next thing I knew, Vernon had ripped my sleep pants off me and Dudley had pulled his own down. Between the two of them I couldn’t escape. I was already trapped on my bed in the corner of the room and they were both much larger than me. I struggled as much as I could and wished I could use magic against them, but I was so afraid of being expelled from Hogwarts that I couldn’t do anything to stop them. My uncle held me down while Dudley thrust his prick into me and I could hear screaming. It wasn’t until afterward when my throat hurt so badly that I realized it had been me screaming. As Dudley was taking me, my uncle had pulled his own cock out and was jerking himself off over my face. I think they both must have come at the same time ‘cause they both pulled away then. Vernon muttered that that would teach me to remember that that was all I was good for and they both laughed and left me there alone.”

Both men were silent for a moment before Severus was able to ask, “And what of your aunt, Harry? Did she know? Did she try to stop them?”

Harry bitterly laughed. “Oh, she knew, all right. She just told me that I had brought it upon myself and that I obviously deserved to be punished by her husband and son. I couldn’t tell anyone here what had happened to me. I guess I really did believe that I should have been able to stop it if I had really wanted to. And the fact that it happened again and again only seemed to drive the lesson into my head that I really did deserve it and maybe even secretly wanted it.”

Looking directly into the obsidian eyes, Harry firmly stated, “That’s wrong, you know. I didn’t deserve it and I didn’t want it. I know now that without being able to use magic against them that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.” Shaking his head in self-reproach, the ex-Gryffindor finished, “Finally, the nightmares even here at Hogwarts got to be so bad that I couldn’t sleep. My dorm mates banded together and dragged me to the infirmary to see Madame Pomfrey. After a fair bit of persuasion, she and Albus were finally able to get an idea of what was happening and that’s when they insisted that I see Dr. Cameron. I was angry with my dorm mates and Poppy and Albus at the time, but now I know that that was the best thing they could ever have done for me.”

“And I suppose you wish to convince me to see this mind healer also?” Severus sneered. Perhaps others, such as Potter, were in need of such things, but he was Severus Snape, Potions master. After all, he had survived years of being Albus Dumbledore’s friend and employee, for Merlin’s sake!

Chuckling at the all too obvious thoughts running through the older man’s head, Harry retorted, “Severus, even you need help sometimes. I have to admit I was skeptical about seeing her at first too, but once she began to help me deal with the anger, the guilt and the self-hatred, I realized just how much I needed her services. Think of it this way: if you had heart problems you would go see a healer. This is really no different. And Dr. Cameron is very good as well as discreet. As you pointed out, no one has ever caught wind of what happened to me. Though I will admit that after working with her, I am now able to talk about it without falling apart anymore. Only my closest friends know about what Vernon and Dudley did to me.”

“And now me too,” Severus murmured.

Raising his glass in a silent toast, Harry agreed, “And now you too.”


	5. Harry Plotting

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

 

Beta’d by the stunning BabyGurl

 

Chapter 5 Harry Plotting

Later that night, Harry considered all that had been said in Severus’ chambers earlier. He also thought about what he had not said to his former professor. Such as the fact that despite Albus’ best efforts, Vernon and Dudley had gotten off with just a slap on the wrist from the authorities. Certain individuals in the Ministry of Magic had done their worst to muck up the judicial proceedings. Only the powerful influence of one Albus Dumbledore had prevented the sordid details from being released to the Wizarding public. Harry had never dared ask what the venerable wizard had done to secure his secret; he only knew that he owed a huge debt to his mentor.

So now, Harry was under no illusions that justice could be served in the usual manner. For one thing, this was war. Besides that, the victim was Severus Snape, who was not exactly on favorable terms with the Ministry. While some might have believed that fact to be a black mark against the man, Harry personally thought that spoke well for his former professor’s standards. And furthermore, Severus simply would not allow his privacy to be compromised by a public trial. That brought the young man back to his original plan. He would have to personally ensure that those responsible were aptly punished. And thanks to Hermione’s extensive notes on some rather obscure and archaic branches of magic, he knew just where to start.

Smiling at the thought of his best friends, Harry had to shake his head at the irony of it all. Ron and Hermione had finally woken up and had gotten together in their seventh year of school. Anxious about the war, they had married immediately after graduation, though they had planned to wait on having children until things were safer. Chuckling to himself, Harry figured they really should have known better. It turned out that the Weasley sperm were magically enhanced and no spell or potion known to wizard-kind could prevent conception if the witch was fertile. So now, Harry was a godfather to their first child and Hermione was once again pregnant. She was just praying it wasn’t twins. Harry also found it rather amusing that Severus had been diligently working in his spare time to find a potion that would stop the ‘Weasley Curse’. Of course, Harry knew that this sudden interest in his friends’ pro-creational activities was simply a means of self-preservation: Severus had no desire to face any more Weasley progeny in the classroom than absolutely necessary.

The smile faded from his face as Harry’s thoughts were again drawn to the Potions master. Thanks to his rather immoral use of Legilemency on the austere man, Harry had the names of all who were responsible for hurting Severus. Now, he simply had to research the correct spells to be used, find a means of safely implementing each curse, and of course, avoid detection by either Albus or the Ministry. Harry didn’t think it would bode well for the war effort if he were to end up in Azkaban for illegal spell work. Of course, Albus would be the harder obstacle to avoid. Fortunately for Harry, the Ministry was still filled for the most part with idiots. The young wizard reflected, not for the first time, and likely not for the last, that it was too bad that there weren’t more people like Arthur Weasley occupying the offices of the Ministry of Magic. Well, perhaps that would have to be the next battle, the war-hardened man grimly thought to himself.

As it was, Harry was somewhat certain that Albus at least suspected his role in Vernon’s and Dudley’s sudden incurable illnesses the two had suffered soon after being let off the hook for their crimes against Harry. One of the many spells Hermione had found promised vast internal damage to the victim, with the very obvious benefit that the spell used was undetectable. That in and of itself went a long way in explaining why that particular curse had long been buried and forgotten by the general wizarding populace.

Harry was immensely grateful, if not a bit confused, that Albus had never called him on the sudden, painful affliction that had hit both father and son. Although, he reflected that it probably had more to do with the fact that they both had secrets to keep: soon after the two were freed, a car had veered off the street and had plowed into Number 4 Privet Drive. The house had been destroyed for all intents and purposes and all inside gravely injured. Strangely, neighbors reported seeing an old man with a white flowing beard behind the wheel, but when they investigated, no sign of the driver was ever found. Of course, Arabella Figg adamantly denied seeing anything out of the unusual that particular day.

Harry poured himself another glass of scotch before pulling a thick tome from his hidden bookcase. Several Dark and slightly illegal books resided in that secret nook, but by now the young wizard barely took note of the ramifications of those being found in his possession. For him, the war effort was far more important than any academic or moral objections to his library’s questionable contents.

Several hours and quite a few books later, Harry had the basics bones of his vengeance against Severus’ attackers mapped out. While he had been reading, a quick quotes quill had been busy listing the names of the miscreants, as well as all available information about each person. Thus far, Harry had this:

Voldemort – power-crazed, vain, snake-obsessed  
Lucius Malfoy – self-absorbed, vain, obsessed with his looks   
Crabbe and Goyle Seniors – neither ever seen without the other, dim-witted, curlish  
Walden Macnair – unnatural obsession with dismembering living things   
Augustus Rookwood – the ultimate bureaucrat  
Antonin Dolohov – sadistic, blindly follows orders   
The Lestrange brothers, Rabastan and Rodolphus – ruthless and bloodthirsty   
Bellatrix Lestrange – needed to die yesterday, painfully 

 

Sending a silent apology to the Albus and his friends, Harry quickly set about gathering the potions and spells he would need to complete his self-appointed task. The young wizard pulled aside the rug in his sitting room and revealed the sacred circle drawn on the stone floor. A wave of his hand lit the candles and he settled his lithe body down into the circle. Closing his eyes, he began the process of centering his mind and delving into his magic. 

This was a practice Harry had been perfecting over the past several months. Slowly, carefully, he had been reaching across the barriers of time and space to weaken his enemy. As a precaution, only Hermione had even an inkling of his intentions as this spell work definitely entailed the Dark Arts. Surprisingly enough, it had been the brown-haired witch’s idea to begin with. Her many hours of research had uncovered a long-forgotten branch of magic that she believed could help Harry defeat Voldemort. Long gone was the know-it-all attitude and the intense need to always follow the rules. Another casualty of war, Harry had grimly decided upon first hearing his friend’s unconventional ideas.

But where before Harry had been careful to keep Voldemort from realizing that he was being weakened from without, that sort of subtle magic would not do in this situation. The ex-Gryffindor wanted his victims to know that they were being attacked. He wanted them to suffer horribly for what they had done to Severus. And the first to suffer would be the creature who was at the heart of all the evil.

Easily finding his magical center, Harry began by asking the gods and goddesses for their forgiveness and for the strength to remain true to the Light. Chanting the ancient spells that would allow him to reach across the miles to the snake-faced monster, Harry allowed the magical energies to flow in and around him. Instinctively strengthening the curse already in place, Harry pulled in more of his magic to allow him to accelerate the damage being done to the megalomaniac. With Hermione’s help, Harry had devised a stronger version of the curse he had sent the Dursleys. More slowly acting, Voldemort would not have noticed anything amiss until the time when Harry was ready to strike. But now, it was time to make the bastard suffer. 

After determining that the degenerative curse had been correctly cast, Harry pulled out of his meditation to find that the magical window in his rooms showed the first rays of the morning sun rising over the mountains. Gingerly pulling his body up from the floor, Harry stretched his stiff muscles before banishing the now spent candles and replacing the rug in the room. 

Knowing that he could not attack the others until he had rested and recharged his energy, Harry moved into his bedroom to sleep for a few hours. Accepting that those he was targeting deserved their fate and that he was just in his cause, the young wizard quickly fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

 

Far away in a dusty, dilapidated manor, another figure woke screaming in agony. The phantom pains and twinges he had been experiencing over the past few months had suddenly intensified. Writhing in extreme pain, the scaly creature wondered how much more he could endure. This was much worse than any of the curses he had subjected himself to in his quest to become immortal. One of his most closely held secrets was that he, Lord Voldemort, could not tolerate even the slightest discomfort. That was, of course, the true definition of a bully, if he would but recognize it: Voldemort, nee Tom Riddle, loved to dish out pain but could not take it himself. Finally, as the pain ebbed, the madman belatedly thought that perhaps it was a bad thing that he had gotten rid of his Potions master after all. In a well-hidden castle in Scotland, a young wizard smiled in his sleep. He had been successful.


	6. Enter Draco, Stage Left

  
Author's notes: After Severus is viciously attacked, Harry exacts his own brand of revenge against those responsible. WARNING: This is a dark fic that deals with rape, violence, torture and revenge. Please do not read if this bothers you.

* * *

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: I apologize for the delay in posting, but I have recently had reason to seriously doubt my abilities as a writer. I gave serious thought to simply stopping and pulling all of my work from the internet, in an effort to save innocent people from my abysmal efforts. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be), my beta and daughter, BabyGurl has worked hard to convince me to keep writing.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is unimaginably busy right now.

 

Chapter 6 Enter Draco, Stage Left

Harry awoke in the late morning, and yawned before rising and stumbling into the shower. Under the hot spray he became more alert and the events of last night played through his mind. Searching his thoughts, the young wizard could not find it in himself to be dismayed or ashamed of his actions. Old Voldy deserved everything coming to him as far as Harry was concerned. Satisfied once again that he was doing the right thing, Harry knew he would just as easily take out the others too.

 

Thankful that it was Sunday and that dinner times were somewhat different than the rest of the week, Harry strode through the halls towards his favorite meal of the week – brunch. There was just something decadent about that meal and its vast menu, he happily thought to himself.

Stepping into the Great Hall, Harry was glad to see that Severus had made an appearance for brunch. Sure that the Headmaster had something to do with that fact; Harry sat in his usual seat next to the surly Potions master. “Good morning, sir,” Harry said as he began loading his plate with scrambled eggs, hash and bangers. Buttered toast and orange marmalade followed and the ex-Gryffindor eagerly tore into his food. The young man smiled around a forkful as he saw the dismayed look his former professor was giving him. The man had certainly complained about Harry’s eating habits often enough over the years, but Harry simply found the very fact that he could eat what he wanted, when he wanted it to be too delightful for words.

Severus grumbled back a reply as he sipped his hot tea. While Severus Snape could never be considered a sociable person, he was even less inclined to speak to anyone before noon. As such, his colleagues and acquaintances were well used to such monosyllabic answers from the dark-haired man this early in the day.

Brunch was nearly over when the main doors to the Great Hall were violently flung open. A familiar silver-haired man hurriedly strode into the room before he paused to notice that a dozen wands were trained on him.

When the doors burst open wide, Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy quickly coming their way. His wand dropped into his hand without conscious thought as he stood to defend his companion. Green eyes narrowed as he realized that the others had also stood to confront the intruder. 

Taking the chance to glance at his quiet colleague, Harry was concerned to see a fine sheen of sweat on the normally stoic man’s face. The young man gently laid a hand on the barely shaking shoulder as he turned back to his former schoolmate. 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy,” Harry ground out. “Are you here to gloat or to finish your father’s job?”

Grey eyes met black ones as the young Malfoy heir visibly blanched. “It’s true then,” he softly stated. Ignoring the still drawn wands covering him, Draco shakily grabbed the nearest chair and sat down before his legs could give out on him.

A trembling hand ran through his finely coiffed hair while the blond closed his eyes and seemed to be trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. When Draco finally spoke, the others had to strain to hear the soft voice. Clear eyes looked into the obsidian eyes of the Potions master as the ex Slytherin spoke, “Fa – father was talking about how they had taught you a lesson you would never forget, about how they had hurt you…, how they had taken you. I thought, I prayed that he was lying, that he was just trying to get a rise out of me. So I had to see for myself, to make sure that you were all right. But you aren’t, are you?”

At this heart-felt speech, even Harry had to lower his wand. The pain and anguish in his former rival’s voice was only too evident. Albus nodded and each witch and wizard lowered their wands also.

Severus slowly stood and walked around the table to where the young Malfoy sat in a miserable heap. Stopping at arms length, the Potions master hesitantly reached out a hand to his former student. “Draco,” he said, “Look at me.”

A tear-stained face looked up to meet that of his former Head of House. “Sev,” he began, “I’m so sorry. I can’t stand the thought of what they – of what he did to you.”

Firmly grasping the young man’s shoulder, Severus smiled softly, “You are not like them, Draco. You don’t have to follow in his footsteps. You can have a place here.”

Gasping, Draco rose up to hug the older man. Watching the two hold on to each other in such an obvious display of affection, Harry couldn’t help the sudden, sharp twinge of pain in his chest. He had known that Malfoy was important to Severus, but seeing the proof of their relationship still hurt. Knowing he had no right to object if his former professor wanted to hug his former rival, Harry worked to school his face into a blank expression. Later, he told himself, later he could wallow in the despair he felt at watching the man he loved holding someone else.

The men simply held each other for far too long, in Harry’s opinion. Finally the pair broke apart and Draco straightened his finely tailored robes before turning to the Headmaster. “Professor Dumbledore,” he politely greeted the older wizard. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time. I believe that what I have to offer might be of interest to you.”

Harry pulled his eyes away from the two men to see that a shrewd pair of bright blue eyes were watching him silently. The younger man had the distinct feeling that the old wizard knew exactly what he was feeling and Harry had to turn away to avoid that thoughtful expression. He wasn’t ready to share his pain with anyone, not even the man he regarded as his family.

Turning back to the blond man who was still standing next to Severus, Albus smiled as he answered the newcomer, “Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Is this a private conversation, or may we invite Professor Snape also?”

His familiar sneer now firmly in place, Draco responded, “Yes, I would very much like for Severus to be there.” Pausing a moment, he added, “And you might want to invite Potter too. I think he might like to hear what I have to say.”

 

Harry snorted as he stood off to the side in the Headmaster’s office. It was really too bad that he couldn’t kill Malfoy just by looking at the prat. The blond was sitting far too close to Severus for his liking and the worst part was that he knew he had no right to complain about that fact. But that certainly didn’t mean that he had to like it.

With great difficulty, Harry dragged his mind away from his morose thoughts and back to the conversation flowing around him. Yeah, right, he silently scoffed as he listened to Malfoy explain how his dear father had bragged about helping to beat and rape Severus and how mortified the little ferret-face supposedly was upon hearing that news. It would take more than a sorry expression and some hand wringing for Harry to truly believe that the blond was any different from his bastard of a father. Flexing his hands angrily, Harry debated the best way to get Malfoy away from Severus.

Frowning as he listened to the blond heatedly state that he would rather eat live flobberworms than to follow in the footsteps of his father and his cronies, Harry thought rather wickedly that he would gladly serve the little flirt a heaping pile of the disgusting creatures personally. However, Albus must have been convinced by his innocent act, because the Headmaster’s eyes were now twinkling as madly as the stars on his robes and he was nodding happily to Severus.

Determined to pay closer attention to the men before him, Harry was pleasantly surprised to hear Albus insist upon the use of Veritaserum on the blond aristocrat. Take that, Malfoy, he thought triumphantly.

Severus pulled out a vial from his personal stock he kept in a magically concealed inner pocket of his robes. Placing the prescribed three drops on the pink tongue, the members of the Order of the Phoenix waited for the potion to take effect.

Once the grey eyes glazed over, Albus began his questioning. “Are you a Death Eater?”

“No,” came the sure answer.

A barrage of questions and negative answers followed in quick succession. “Do you support Lord Voldemort’s ideas?” “Is your appearance here part of a plan against the Light?” “Do you harbor ill-will against Severus Snape?”

Apparently satisfied with these answers, Albus turned to a different line of questioning. “Are you willing to fight against your father and his master?”

A furrowed brow was the only sign of inner turmoil as the blond fought his response, “Yes, although, I don’t want to fight. The idea of taking a life abhors me and the thought of having to face Lucius scares me.”

Severus raised an elegant eyebrow at hearing this and Harry leaned forward to catch the conversation. “Why do you call him that, Draco?” the Potions master quietly asked.

Draco answered immediately this time, “Because after what he did to you, I no longer consider him to be my father! In fact, I renounce the name of Malfoy and all it represents! If acting as Lucius does is what it means to be a Malfoy, then I want nothing to do with it.”

Magical energy crackled throughout the room, and indeed the castle, as the heartfelt vow took affect. Draco was no longer a Malfoy; he had truly turned his back on his father, his family, his heritage.

Stunned by the revelation, Harry could only stand there and gape. So Ma – Draco was sincere. But that didn’t mean he had to like it, or the fact that the ferret was still sitting too closely to the man he loved.


	7. The Green Eyed Monster

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all of the wonderful people who have encouraged me to continue to try to grow as a writer. I would especially like to thank and acknowledge darkpyroangel06, who heroically sprang to my defense, letting me know that I do indeed have many supporters out there. Your heart-felt response did much to soothe my wounded soul. Thank you.

A/N2: WARNING: This chapter deals with very dubious consent and bondage and violence. Please tread carefully.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is feeling under the weather at the moment.

 

 

Chapter 7 The Green Eyed Monster

The heavy door to his chambers slammed open as Harry angrily strode through. Without turning around, he waved a hand behind him, closing and warding the door. Why did that prat, Malfoy, have to show up, he groused to the empty room? 

Tossing off his robe, the young man continued to pace angrily about the room. Harry knew he was being ridiculous, as he really didn’t stand a chance with Severus anyway, but that couldn’t stop the ex-Gryffindor from hating the Slytherin Prince. Though their former rivalry had quieted somewhat in the face of war, Harry had quickly come to despise the now-former Malfoy heir because of the blondee’s easy and close relationship with the Potions master. Harry ruthlessly squashed the small voice in his mind telling him that it wasn’t Malfoy’s fault that he had fallen in love with the Head of Slytherin House. No, Harry forcibly reminded himself, he had every right to hate the simpering, egotistical blonde sex god. And Harry fully intended to put that hatred to good use, starting right now.

His decision made, the young man quickly and efficiently warded his rooms before allowing his magic to ready the sacred circle and summon the necessary potions. Harry’s anger and jealousy against Draco had more than fueled his desire to strike back at the Malfoy legacy.

 

Sinking easily into his now familiar meditative state, Harry was able to send his consciousness across the countryside until he reached his destination: Lucius Malfoy. Part of his mind took in the opulent surroundings as he viewed his next victim. Disgust rose in his gut as the spectral Harry observed the elder Malfoy pounding relentlessly into a young dark-haired male. Allowing his mind to freely flow around the room, Harry could see that the young man was in pain from the rough treatment the Death Eater was dealing him. Tears leaked out of the silent man’s eyes as his arms were pulled taut by the leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists. Harry could see similar cuffs locking the man’s legs and forcing the man to bend spread out over the edge of the desk. Spread eagle as he was, the young man could do nothing but grip the edge of the large desk as he was being relentlessly ridden. Harry knew that if he had been there in physical form that he would have been sick at having to witness such a display. It was fairly obvious that the slender man had been magically gagged, as no sounds emerged from the grimacing man. 

If Harry had had any doubts whatsoever about the rightness of what he was going to do to Malfoy, they were gone now. From the grinning visage of the blonde’s features, it was patently obvious that the Malfoy patriarch was thoroughly enjoying using and abusing the young body in front of him. Nothing in this scenario showed this to be anything other than raw lust and the thirst for power and control. And if Harry had to guess, he would have to believe that those feelings were one sided.

Finally, Malfoy stiffened and thrust his hips into the now limp body beneath him, before pulling out in disgust. Buttoning up his trousers, he sneered at the naked man and watched as his ejaculate mixed with blood to run down the pale legs. “Perhaps that will teach you to deny our lord, young Nott,” Malfoy smirked. Casually pulling out his wand, he released the bounds holding the man who Harry now recognized to be Theodore Nott.

Malfoy ignored the shaking man as he poured himself a healthy glass of brandy. Before Nott could collect himself or even think about pulling his clothes back on his still trembling body, a knock sounded at the door. The blonde aristocrat sat down behind his desk and airily called for his visitors to enter. “Ah, Crabbe, Goyle. You may take our young friend here down to the sub-basement and ‘entertain’ him,” Malfoy dismissed his burly cohorts without even glancing their way.

The young man in question whimpered slightly as he could apparently imagine what sort of activities awaited him deep in the bowls under the mansion. Harry found himself torn as he watched the two large men leave with their naked prize held tightly between them. Harry had not ever really known the young man while they were in school together, but the skin on the left forearm of the former Slytherin was unblemished and he was definitely being mistreated. 

After a moment’s hesitation, the ex-Gryffindor made his decision. It would be risky, but if he had the chance to save someone who might very well need it, then he would do it. Steeling himself for what he had originally come to do, Harry began chanting and focusing his magic on the remaining occupant of the room. 

Seemingly unaware of his spectral guest, Lucius Malfoy sat back in his Italian leather chair while he sipped his fine brandy. After several minutes of chanting and weaving his magic around the arrogant man, Harry mentally stepped back and prepared to watch the results. As the young man had predicted, he had not long to wait. Malfoy was in mid-smirk, apparently thinking of some past or future misdeed, when a wart popped into existence on the finely shaped, aristocratic nose. Another wart appeared on the beardless chin before the startled man raised a manicured hand to his face and screeched in obvious dismay. Satisfied that his spells had taken hold, Harry allowed his consciousness to seek out his wounded ex-school mate and his captors.

 

Tuning out the evil that seemed to permeate the very walls of the Malfoy homestead, Harry instead honed in on the anguish hidden below the elegantly appointed rooms. Pain and desperation leeched through the many passageways, leading the defender of Light down to his destination.

Mere moments later, his spirit entered the dimly lit cell where a thin figure tried in vain to hide his still naked body from the meaty fists that relentlessly pummeled him. Sobs rent the air as the captive was helpless to do more than to try to withstand the blows that rained down on his already bruised and bleeding body.

Harry wasted no more time. He could see that the Nott wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer. Pulling on his magical reserves, Harry once again began chanting and allowed the powers to coalesce around the men in the dank cell. As before, none of the physical occupants seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary as the two large men continued to abuse their prisoner. The tall, thin man was certainly in no position to note anything other than the pain being dealt him.

Pushing out one last time with his magic, Harry watched the transformations unfold. Fists that had been steadily punching their victim darkened, while dark hair quickly sprouted on the thick fingers and hands. Arms and shoulders broadened and hunched as the two goons reverted to a more primitive form. As they completed their transformations, fists now beat on their own firm chests as grunts filled the air and small primate eyes curiously regarded their companions. The first reached out stubby fingers to pluck a bug out of the scalp of the other before briefly examining and then eating the offending insect. 

Nott cautiously looked up to see why his captors had ceased their abuse. Dazedly, the young man tried to make sense of the scene before him. Where just moments before two thickly muscled men had stood, were now two African gorillas. Briefly squeezing his eyes shut against the strange sight, the thin man gaped open mouthed for a moment before he realized that the door to his dungeon cell now stood open. Staggering to his feet, Nott took a moment to steady himself before carefully grabbing a discarded robe that one of his captors had torn off. 

Cautiously eyeing the two gorillas who seemed intent upon ridding themselves of their constricting clothing and picking insects off each other, the young man crept towards the open door and his freedom. Later, he might have wondered how each door was miraculously unlocked and unwarded, but at the present, he could only praise Merlin as each step took him farther away from his captors and torment. 

As the battered young man gingerly stepped over the boundary of the wards surrounding Malfoy Manor, Harry pressed a suggestion in the mind of his former schoolmate. Satisfied that the young man would be safe, Harry pulled his mind and magic back to his own body. If all went well, perhaps the morrow might even bring them a new ally in the fight against Voldemort.

 

Taking a deep breath as he felt his mind and body reconnect, Harry allowed a smile to form on his lips. Though he was tired from the tremendous expenditure of energy, the ex-Gryffindor was extremely pleased with himself. Opening his eyes, the smile slid off his face as he saw the person who was sitting across from him, intently watching his every move.


	8. Let Me Tell You a Story

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: Thank you to all who have wished me well as I continue to fight my bronchitis. Let’s just say I am so glad that February is over now. It is a month I have no desire to repeat. Between still being sick, severely crippling my computer with static electricity, trying to convince my husband to get me a new computer, and falling down the stairs, it has been a dismal month. But a new month awaits and I am endeavoring to continue despite the temporary obstacles.

A/N2: I am happy to say that my husband finally broke down and got me a new computer. It might have had something to do with the fact that I kept downloading racy pictures of men onto his computer to use as desktop wallpaper *whistles innocently*. So now we have to figure out how to get my stuff off my old computer when the USB ports are all dead…

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is busy with school and her internship at the moment.

 

 

Chapter 8 Let Me Tell You a Story

“Ah, Harry. I see you are back,” the gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore greeted the young man.

Green eyes wide open; Harry could only stare at the visage of his mentor. His heart drummed out a staccato beat while he tried to formulate a plausible explanation. But even as his mind whirled furiously in his skull, he knew it was futile. Of course, Albus knew what he had been doing. Taking a steadying breath, Harry awaited the inevitable fallout for his actions.

The elderly wizard calmly pulled a tin out of his robe, and after offering the stunned young man a lemon drop, popped his own into his mouth. Still seated in the circle on the floor in the middle of his room, Harry numbly held the sticky treat while he waited for his world to end. 

An eternity later, Albus spoke. “Harry, do you know the story behind the spells in that book Miss Granger, excuse me, Mrs. Weasley found for you?” Seeing the dark haired young man shake his head, the Headmaster continued, “Long ago, a witch named Erinys lived a peaceful and happy life. Then one day, she returned to her home to find that her husband and children had all been brutally murdered. Overcome with grief and vowing revenge against those who had wronged her and destroyed her life, she created the spells with which she punished the wrongdoers. Now, as I said, Erinys was at heart a good witch and wished to ensure that her spells would never be used in an unjust manner. So, she set down a record of the spells and bound them into a book that she then enchanted to only reveal to the true of heart. As an added precaution, Erinys wove in layers of protection into the spells themselves so that an impure person would be destroyed by the very spells he or she was attempting to cast against others.”

Harry sat still while he attempted to process the information he had been given. Hermione had not told him where she had found the book or the history behind it, and frankly Harry had not really cared at the time, only seeing it as a way to rid the world of a murderous monster.

Sky blue eyes regarded the troubled green ones before him. “Do you understand what I am saying, Harry? You were only able to use the spells because your intentions were pure. In the case of Voldemort, you simply wished to end his reign of terror, and now, I suspect that you are motivated by your desire to avenge a wrong done to one who is dear to your heart.”

The young warrior thought for a moment before straightening in alarm. “You mean you knew that I would use those spells and that there was a chance that I could be cursed in return?”

A thin hand raised in supplication. “My dear boy, I had every faith that you would be fine. Everything I have ever learned about you through the years has assured me that you act only in the interest of fairness. I do realize that you have had your moments in the past and have been overtaken by an often too fervent desire to see justice done, but these instances have always worked out in the end. However, I must caution you against revenge against young Mr. Draco Malfoy. For you would surely find that in seeking revenge against him, you yourself would certainly be cursed in return.” Albus paused for a moment to allow the words to register with the young wizard.

Seeing the thick brow scrunch in confusion, the Headmaster continued, “I believe that if you were to investigate further, without your prejudices and presumptions, you would find that things are not as you believe between Severus and young Draco.” Smiling at the still confused man, Albus rose from his seat. “I do believe that I have left you with more than enough to consider for now, Harry. I trust that you will make the right decision.”

Harry sat still as he watched the older wizard take leave of his rooms. Albus had given him much to think about, and Harry had to admit he didn’t even know where to begin. Letting out a shaky breath, the young man slowly rose from the floor and mechanically set about straightening the room while his mind stuttered and churned over the events of the past half hour.

Albus knew what he had been doing. Not only knew, but seemed to approve in his own bizarre way, Harry wryly acknowledged. In fact, Harry would almost be willing to bet that Albus had somehow been behind the sudden discovery of this ‘lost tome’. Shaking his head at the mysterious ways of the barmy old man, Harry poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey before sitting down in front of the merrily crackling fire. The young wizard chuckled to himself as he watched the flames dance and wink at him, reminding him all too much of one certain mischievous Headmaster.

 

With a start, Harry awoke to the chiming of the dinner bell. Confused, he looked at the charmed window in his sitting room and saw that much of the day had indeed passed while he had sat musing his mentor’s words. Standing, Harry stretched languorously and realized he felt much more refreshed after his impromptu nap.

Determined now to investigate Albus’ hints that he just might be wrong about Severus and Malfoy, Harry hurriedly went into the bathroom and splashed cool water on his face before setting out for the Great Hall. If there was a chance that his jealousy was unfounded, then there still might be a chance for him to win Severus.

 

As it was, Harry never made it to dinner in the Great Hall that evening. He had just turned the corner down the corridor from his rooms when he heard an unmistakable voice call out his name. Stopping in his tracks, Harry sighed before turning and silently watching his former school rival approach. “Malfoy, what do you want?” Harry tersely asked. He really wasn’t ready to face the blond just yet.

The aristocratic young man shook his head before answering in his familiar drawl, “Really, Potter. And here I was thinking that you had finally grown a brain. You were there earlier when I publicly disowned my father and the Malfoy name.” Smirking, the blond continued, “Therefore, Potter, I am no longer a Malfoy. Even you should be able to figure that out.”

Harry rolled his eyes and growled, “Fine, so you are not a Malfoy anymore. But you are still a prat. So what should I call you now? Ferret?”

That annoying smirk was back and the ex-Malfoy heir casually leaned against the tapestry covered wall. “Good one, Potter. But I think that I would prefer Draco if it’s all the same to you.”

“Draco? You want me to call you Draco?” Harry asked incredulously. Surely his day couldn’t get any more surreal than this.

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, the blond nodded. “Do you think that we could continue this conversation somewhere a bit more secluded? I don’t know about you, but my reputation would be ruined if I were spotted having a normal conversation with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the blond’s theatrics before making a decision. Turning around, he led the other young man back to his rooms and silently unwarded the door. Allowing his former rival to enter his rooms was a risk, Harry knew, but if he wanted to find out what Dumbledore had been hinting at, then he was willing to take the chance.

Once the door was properly warded once again, Harry turned to face his unusual guest. Expecting to hear a scathing retort on the state of his private domain, Harry was instead shocked when the blond nodded and muttered, “Not half bad, Potter.” Well, Harry supposed that would be the closest thing to a compliment he would get from the blond git.

Taking the seat offered to him, Draco began, “Look, I have been wanting to find a way to safely come over to your side for some time now. This attack against Uncle Sev was more than enough reason to do so. So I think it makes sense for us to come to a truce and to focus our energies on the bastards responsible for all this instead of attacking each other.”

Harry’s brain had short-circuited at hearing the words ‘Uncle Sev’. Barely aware of the rest of the message, the raven-haired man numbly sat and stared at the other man.

Apparently, he had sat there for a bit too long, as Draco finally waved his hand in front of the confused wizard. “Feeling all right there, Scarhead?” he smirked.

Shaking his head to clear out his thoughts, Harry could only reply, “Uncle?”

Grey eyes rolled as the blond sighed once more. “Sorry, Potter. I keep forgetting who I am talking to.” Draco then spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, “Severus. Snape. Is. My. Godfather. I. Have. Always. Called. Him. Uncle. Clear enough, or do I need to draw you a picture?”

Harry took a deep breath before responding, “Severus is your Godfather. I didn’t know, I thought…”

Draco considered the ex-Gryffindor for a moment. “You thought? What, that we were something else?! Please, Potter. That’s just wrong. I mean the man has been more of a father to me than Lucius ever wanted to be. Thanks, Scarhead. Now I’m going to have to go wash my brain out.”

When Harry only blinked dumbly at him, Draco smirked. “Oh, I get it now, Potter. You like Severus.” Chuckling in obvious amusement, the blond continued, “Well then, it looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us if we are going to convince Uncle Sev to get together with you.”

No, Harry had definitely been wrong earlier. The day could certainly get much more surreal.


	9. Gathering Courage

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: Okay, I could bore you all with the many reasons why I haven’t updated before now, but here’s the recap instead: husband, surgery; daughter, high school graduation; me, bronchitis (again!), meetings, appointments, out of town trips, coffee maker dying, water heater dying (twice in 3 months, and I hate cold showers!), riding lawn mower breaking. See, not so bad after all! And, ooh, I forgot: having to sue a major rent-a-car agency for an accident where their car hit my daughter’s broadside (but they were nice enough to send us a bill for damages to their car). 

A/N2: And now I finally know why I keep getting bronchitis: it turns out I have asthma and for now it is **not** under control, so I have very little strength and stamina and am prone to frequent asthma attacks. I am sorry to say that my writing has suffered greatly during this time.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is getting ready for her first day of college this coming week.

 

**Chapter 9 Gathering Courage**

An evening of contemplation had failed to yield any clues as to why Mal-Draco had suddenly taken it into his head to help his former school rival pursue their surly former Potions Professor. That the little ferret was also Severus’ godson had been another unexpected revelation. Frowning as Harry considered just how little he knew about the man who had captured his heart, the ex-Gryffindor went to bed that night as he pondered how he was going to correct that problem.

 

Harry awoke the next day to find that the other occupants of the large castle were in an uproar. Once Harry had managed stumbled up to the Great Hall and had downed a cup of strong black coffee, the world began to swim into focus and he caught the sound of excited whispers between Minerva and Albus. Watching the pair, Harry was surprised when Albus raised his head and looked directly at him. Clear blue eyes sparkled as the Headmaster smiled warmly at the younger wizard. Thoughts that were not his own brushed across his consciousness and the young man’s eyes grew wide as he absorbed the information being given so freely. Only later would Harry stop long enough to think on the implications that one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore would be able to actually ‘plant’ his thoughts in the mind of another. But for now, the ex-Gryffindor was reeling with the new thoughts that were rapidly entwining themselves with his own. During the night, Theodore Nott had found his way back to Hogwarts and had asked not only for sanctuary, but also for a chance to get back at those who had hurt and betrayed him. And as Harry sifted through this new information, he was astounded to find that the list was quite long: starting with Nott’s own parents and older siblings, to Voldemort and finally down to one Lucius Malfoy.

Settling back uneasily in his seat, Harry acknowledged that the senior, oops only Malfoy, male would likely cause few problems in the near future. The infamous Malfoy vanity simply would not allow the man to show his by now flawed face in public for quite some time. Damning his nagging sense of honor, Harry pushed his guilty conscious to the back of his mind before once again turning his attention to his companions.

A quick glance around the room confirmed his earlier, sleep-fogged mind’s impression that Severus was absent. Indeed, the man rarely left the safety of his rooms in the dungeons these days. Draco Mal – ferret face was also missing and Harry wondered if the former Slytherin prince was with Severus or the injured Nott. Harry frowned as he tried to recall whether his two old school mates had been friendly during their years at Hogwarts, but he quickly decided that thinking that much was not an activity that was meant for the morning hours. 

Hagrid was his usual jolly self down at the end of the table, and was waving his large arms around animatedly as he related some story or another to the diminutive Professor Flitwick. The tiny Charms Professor, in turn, seemed to be carefully and fearfully avoiding the half-giant’s flailing limbs.

The current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was tending to a fresh wound he had apparently incurred while trying to cut into his bangers, and Professors Vector and Sinestra were deeply involved in an intimate conversation. Harry smiled at that. It seemed as if everyone in the castle but those two knew how much they loved each other. Really, he wondered, how could the two women be so obtuse about something so obvious?

And finally, Harry noted somewhat belatedly that Professor Trelawney was present, though the batty witch seemed to be rather intently regarding the contents of her tea cup and was muttering madly to herself. Shaking his head, Harry quickly decided that no good could come from trying to figure out that particular scenario.

As he gratefully sipped another cup of the ‘liquor of life’™, Harry tried to figure out his next course of action. Though he knew that he REALLY needed to see Severus soon, he found that he was rather nervous about the issue. Had the amazing bouncing ferret said anything to the man? And if so, should Harry just go out to the courtyard and dig his grave now?

Finally deciding that thinking the matter to death wasn’t going to answer his questions, Harry gathered the remnants of his courage and stood. Nodding absently to the others, the ex-Gryffindor made up his mind and walked down to the dungeons. 

Before Harry could even knock, the door swung open to reveal the dark eyed Potions master. Sighing, Severus quietly asked, “What do you want, Potter? Isn’t it enough that I have to see you around the castle without having you invading my rooms?”

Determined to not allow the acerbic man’s tone to dissuade him, Harry crossed his arms across his chest and simply leveled a steady gaze at the man. Curiously, this tactic worked as Severus inclined an eyebrow before stepping back, allowing Harry to enter his private sanctuary.

Harry heard the door close behind him and felt the brush of magic that signaled Severus’ privacy wards being raised. Turning to face the man who haunted his thoughts and dreams, the young man swallowed thickly before he spoke. “Severus,” he began quietly, “I have been worried about you. I have tried to give you room and time to heal, but I can’t stay away any longer. Like it or not, you have become far too important to me for me to just turn away from your pain.” Ignoring the snort issuing from his companion, Harry continued, “I know you think I’m just some sentimental Gryffindor with delusions of self-importance, but I really do care about you.” Here, Harry paused a moment and ran his hand through his already unruly hair in an attempt to calm himself. “For all of your bristles and barbs, Severus Snape, I have come to realize that you really are a good man underneath all the masks. I also know you to be an honorable and loyal wizard.” Smirking, Harry added, “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that; heck, I doubt most would even believe me.”

Sitting down uninvited, Harry waited silently to see how the irascible man would react to that little speech. Truth be told, Harry was right proud of himself for finally having the balls to say those things to his former professor.

The young wizard had to work hard to school his expression to neutral while he watched the normally reserved Potions master attempt to rein in his emotions. If Harry had not realized it before, he knew now that Severus had recently been through a life-changing event. And if Harry had his way, he would be there every step of the way with this man to help him. Shaking his head, the young wizard realized that nothing would ever be easy with the man his heart had chosen as its mate.


	10. Chapter 10	Changing Perceptions

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP and DH never happened. Are we clear on that?

A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. RL has been difficult lately.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is studying for a class final this week.

 

**Chapter 10 Changing Perceptions**

 

“I must admit to being somewhat surprised by your ability to actually form coherent sentences, Mr. Potter,” Severus dryly noted as he too sat down with his ‘guest’.

Harry grinned ruefully at the older wizard. “Just admit it Sev,” he gently chided. “You know you like me despite your better judgment.”

A raised eyebrow was the only answer the ex-Gryffindor would get and he determinedly settled back into his chair. Both men lapsed into silence and Harry contented himself with watching the flames crackle and dance in the large fireplace. He supposed it might have something to do with the fact that he had grown up with muggles that such a simple thing could bring him such peace and joy. Occasionally, the green eyed man would glance over at his silent companion, intrigued by the shadows that played across the man’s impressive features. No, Harry thought, the man would never be considered handsome, but Severus Snape was certainly striking. One would never forget such a prominent face. Or his attitude, the young wizard acknowledged wryly.

 

Several long minutes passed before a loud sigh sounded from the older man. “Really, Mr. Potter, if you insist upon infringing upon my privacy, you could at least refrain from gawking at me as though I were a particularly bothersome potion.”

Harry tried, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at his former professor’s droll comments and the dry delivery. “You know me, sir. I’m nothing if not annoying,” came the cheeky rejoinder.

 

The two men sat in relative quiet, if not quietude, for the remainder of the afternoon, only breaking for a light lunch that the ex-Gryffindor requested from Dobby. Harry was glad that Dobby managed to contain his unnatural exuberance for once, as he wasn’t sure that Severus would have appreciated a hyper-active house elf in his private quarters. The young wizard made sure that his former professor ate a decent amount of food before finally sending the tray back to the kitchens. 

Dinner time approached and Harry was just about to suggest that Severus put in an appearance in the Great Hall when a knock sounded on the door to the Potions Master’s chambers. Severus waved the door open and both men watched as the former Slytherin prince strode into the room. 

“Good, I see Potter’s here. Now I don’t have to waste my time hunting him down,” Draco began without preamble. “Sev, the Headmaster wants us all to meet him in his office now.”

Harry shook his head at the blonde’s imperious attitude. It appeared that disowning his Malfoy heritage had done nothing to tone down the arrogance that was pure vintage Draco.

Realizing that dinner would have to wait just a bit more, Harry fell into step with Severus as they followed Draco up out of the dungeons and up to the circular tower that housed Dumbledore’s office. Once or twice the young wizard caught his once-nemesis glance back at the two dark haired wizards, leering suggestively. Yeah, way to do subtle, Ferret-Face, Harry thought disgustedly.

 

Albus warmly greeted the three men and Harry was surprised to see a subdued Theodore Nott sitting quietly in a luridly patterned chintz-covered chair. The ex-Gryffindor smothered a laugh when the Potions master silently transfigured a similarly adorned seat into a more austere black leather chair. Easily slipping into his own seat, Harry watched as Draco cautiously sat near his former House mate. A slight flinch from the recently abused young man was the only outward sign of agitation Nott displayed.

“Now, Severus and Harry, I am sure you are wondering why I asked Draco to bring you up here,” Albus said. “Mr. Nott has decided that it is in his best interests to aid our efforts in fighting Lord Voldemort and has graciously agreed to provide us with some important information.”

That simple proclamation brought the men’s attention to the matter at hand and they listened attentively while Theodore Nott hesitantly spoke, revealing secrets that not even Severus Snape had uncovered during his tenure as spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks. Names were written, notes were taken and resolves were hardened as the leaders of the Light listened to the young man’s tale.

 

Later that night, Harry wearily warded his rooms and sat down in one of the chairs by the merrily crackling fire. A soft smile lit his face as he silently thanked Dobby for his dedication to his honorary master. That smile faded as Harry recalled his determination to renew his assault on Voldemort and to attack the next Death Eater on his list: Bella Bitch Lestrange. Yes, he definitely owed that witch a particularly nasty time.

 

An hour later, Harry emerged from his trance. He was tired, but he felt an odd sense of renewal at the same time. Who knew that turning the screws as it were to old Voldie could be so satisfying, Harry thought to himself as he carefully stood and stretched his body. 

As he set about returning the room to normal, Harry allowed his mind to wander back to his visions while he had been in the trance. Far away a cloaked figure had writhed in anguish on his throne as a cowering Peter Pettigrew watched with wide eyes. The trembling creature had evidently decided that it was in his best interest to remain out of sight of his moaning master, as the Animagus slunk farther back into the shadows. 

In the blink of his mind’s eye, Harry had then focused his attentions on the witch who had been responsible for so much pain. Having decided earlier a simple but suitable punishment for the woman who had been responsible for the death of his godfather, Harry quickly got to work. A real sense of purpose filled his mind as he wove the ancient magic around the woman. Watching in grim satisfaction as the spells set to work, Harry recognized the first signs that the witch was being affected. Eyes widened in the thin, drawn face as thoughts that were not her own began to filter through her mental shields. Frowning, Bella seemed to be fighting to close her mind against the intrusion, but Harry knew that she would be unable to block the true thoughts of her beloved master. Tears fell on the harsh features as the truth sank in: the Dark Lord despised her and merely tolerated her because she was useful to his cause. Feeling a strange sense of fulfillment, Harry had then pulled his mind back to his body and opened his eyes.

 

Once the room was straightened up, the young wizard smiled and prepared to head to bed. All in all, it had been a very productive and satisfying day.


	11. Facing the Past

J. K. Rowling owns the Potterverse. I am not she.

HBP and DH never happened. Are we clear on that?

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is busy with college.

 

**Chapter 11 Facing the Past**

Several weeks had passed, and each day brought news of more disappearances and deaths reaching the occupants of the venerable castle. Harry continued to train in both magical and muggle forms of warfare during the daytime, just as he continued his nighttime assaults against Severus’ tormentors.

Antonin Dolohov would never have been able to tell you exactly why he had blindly followed his long-suffering wife’s admonishment to ‘just do us all a favor and throw yourself in front of the Hogwart’s Express already!’ After all, he had just felt the need to do as the beleaguered woman had demanded.   
Walden Macnair had been rather dismayed, but only for a moment, when he discovered that in chopping off the head of his next victim, he had actually succeeded in severing his own. The eternal look of surprise on the man’s face as his head dropped to the ground was priceless.

For reasons known only to themselves, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange decided to visit the deranged werewolf, Fenir Greyback, and his pack on the night of the very next full moon. Likewise, for reasons known only to the pack of vicious werewolves, the Lestrange brothers were summarily set upon and immediately killed rather than being turned. 

Unspeakable Johan McPhearson arrived early to work in the Ministry of Magic one fine morning, only to find his co-worker, Augustus Rookwood, buried under an immense pile of ancient tomes and overdue paperwork. The unfortunate man had obviously stayed late, working diligently on a project, no doubt, and had fallen victim to the pressures of his job.

 

Throughout this all, Harry kept reminding himself that these people deserved what they had gotten, and besides, ridding the world of their evil now was better for everyone. Of course, it certainly wouldn’t hurt that there were now just a few less bad guys to face in the upcoming final battle. It also helped a great deal when Albus pulled the young man aside one morning and had calmly remarked on the fine job Harry had done while pressing the latest edition of _The Daily Prophet_ into his hands.

Frowning, Harry opened the paper to see that Rita Skeeter had written a rather florid and heart wrenching account of the unexpected demise of one of the Wizarding World’s finest members:

 

_Lord Lucius Malfoy Found Dead!  
By Rita Skeeter_

_I am sure that my dear readers will be just as shocked as I am to learn that one of The Wizarding World’s most prominent members has been found dead by his loving wife of many years, Narcissa (nee Black) Malfoy. Apparently, the head of the Malfoy house had mysteriously contracted a rather disfiguring disease and in his quest to find a cure, was poisoned by an experimental potion. It has been determined that the potion in question was in fact brewed by Lord Malfoy, himself._

_I know that my readers will join in with me in expressing our condolences to the grieving widow and her son, Draco Black._

_For rumors and speculation on why Lucius Malfoy’s only son and heir now claims the name Black, see page 14._

 

Laughing at the fact that the blonde’s vanity had ended in his demise, Harry looked over to where Severus was seated. A copy of _The Daily Prophet_ lay before the Potions master and a look of shocked disbelief settled on the normally stoic face. Quickly walking over to the man, Harry asked quietly, “Sev, are you all right?”

“He’s dead,” the Potions master whispered. “He can’t hurt me anymore.”

Sitting down, Harry tried to decipher the other man’s reaction. “No, Sev, he can’t. You are safe now,” Harry quietly reassured the man he loved. Secretly, he wondered at the fact that he had slipped not once, but twice now, and had called the dour man ‘Sev’, and had lived to tell the tale. Deciding quickly, Harry stood. “Why don’t we go talk about this in your quarters? That way we won’t be interrupted or overheard,” he added meaningfully.

 

Despite it still being quite early in the day, the pair were each on their second glass of Ogden’s Best and Severus finally seemed to be unwinding enough to actually be in the mood to listen to what Harry needed to tell him.

Clearing his throat nervously, Harry broached the subject he knew needed to be discussed. “Severus, have you seen the mind healer that Madame Pomfrey recommended?”

The young wizard watched as his former professor took a long sip of the potent libation in lieu of answering. Obviously, this was not going to be easy. Draining his own glass, Harry silently signaled for another glass before he plunged in head first.

“Sev, listen to me. You cannot keep hiding away from this. You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen! You can’t keep pushing me and everyone else away! You are better than this! You deserve better than this!” Breathless now, Harry stared wide-eyed at the irascible former spy.

Apparently, Severus had heard enough, because he snapped, “And what if I did deserve everything that they did to me?” His dark eyes were wild and his nostrils were flaring as the Potions master seemed to dare the younger man to refute his absurd claim.

Resolutely, Harry struggled to rein in his surging emotions. How could the man possibly believe that he had deserved to be beaten and raped? How - ? And then Harry knew. Steeling himself, the ex-Gryffindor looked his former professor in the eyes and calmly stated, “You still blame yourself for all of your past mistakes. You blame yourself for each and every transgression you might ever have made. Severus, until you can accept that you can and must forgive yourself, you are never going to be able to accept forgiveness from anyone else.” Reaching out to gently touch the older wizard’s arm, Harry continued, “Let it go, Severus. Let go of the blame. It’s time to forgive yourself.” Now, for the hard part. “I know what it’s like to do the wrong thing for the right reason. I know what it’s like to purposely hurt someone, knowing that it is my choice to do so, but also accepting that it must be done because this is war. We are all casualties here, Sev, but we have to believe that we are worthy of forgiveness, because in the end all we have is our own sense of self, our own convictions.”

Ebony eyes, filled with such self-loathing, searched vibrant green eyes for the truth. Harry allowed the truth to meet those searching eyes, allowed the other man to see the truth for himself. Sighing, Severus spoke so quietly in the still room that Harry had to strain to hear the words. “You are correct, Mr. Potter, I have been holding onto my guilt like a jealous lover. I have worked diligently throughout all these many years to prove to myself that I was unworthy of absolution.” 

Closing his eyes in shared pain and remorse, Harry did the only thing he could think to do: he pulled the taller man into a tight embrace. “I know, Sev,” he whispered, “it’s hard to believe that we can be forgiven and even harder to accept that forgiveness. But I believe in you and I will always be here for you.”

Harry firmly held the ex-Death Eater in his arms, silently willing his strength to embrace this most stubborn of men. When after a few minutes he finally felt his love relax, Harry then allowed himself to relax too. Perhaps this would all somehow be okay in the end, after all.


End file.
